


Mother's Touch

by Miss_Lv



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Accelerated Aging, Disguise, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Emotional Manipulation, Empathy, First Time, Hand Jobs, Inhuman Percival, Jealousy, M/M, Manipulation, Mpreg, Murder, Parent/Child Incest, Perversion, Pervert Percival, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Exploriation, Sleeping Together, Somnophilia, Succubi & Incubi, Virginity, minor male lactation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:44:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Lv/pseuds/Miss_Lv
Summary: “Oh, hello little darling,” Newt finally whispered softly, as if talking too loud would break the moment.Something like awe settling over him.This child he delivered in a single night.Despite being a man.Clearly, the lore on the incubus was vastly underwhelming compared to the truth.A tail curled around Newt’s wrist, holding tightly as the baby drank contently, blinking his golden eyes up at Newt. As if imprinting on him, looking up at his mother as Newt peered looked back down and felt his heart make room for this new life.“I suppose I’m your mummy, my little darling.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting Incubus fic on it's own! I'm working on a second part from Percival's pov so I'll add that as a second chapter to this. 
> 
> Percival's aging is really accelerated, I don't see it as underage but it is a thing.

Things rarely go to plan when working with magical creatures, Newt has found over the years.

After a day of gathering field research and making notes on the local creatures, Newt went to his rented room for the evening. It was a small wizarding village and he was grateful to not have to both hiding his magic. Not that he minded a great deal but it was simply convenient. He opened up the door to his room and he stopped short to find someone waiting inside.

A very handsome man with a charming smile. Newt felt heat pool in his belly immediately, he was very good looking and his eyes locked on Newt like he was the only thing that mattered. Newt was almost immediately sure this man was an incubus, one of the very creatures he had come to Romania to study. 

“M-May I help you?” Newt managed to ask, perhaps there was a mix up with the rooms but it felt unlikely. Newt had spent the last week asking the locals about the magical creatures that coexisted with them. He had given a special interest in incubi and succubi, hoping to learn more about the mysterious and widely feared beings.

“I heard you talking today,” the man said, his voice low and smooth, mesmerizing in a way. “In the market about the incubi, wanting to learn about them, you said.”

“Yes,” Newt agreed hastily, adjusting his wrist sleeve awkwardly and hoping to coax this creature into talking to him. “I’m writing a book you see, and I would like to write the facts rather than the lore.”

“Most books are about how to kill creatures,” a frown pulled on the man’s face and he looked out the window he was standing at. “More would hunt and harm rather than learn.”

“Well, I hope to change that. To educate my fellow wizards and make them see we should be living peacefully with creatures, rather than out to harm them.”

The stranger looked at Newt again, as if he could see right into him and know if he meant what he said.

After a moment he seemed pleased and smiled warmly, making Newt feel that heat edge up his spine, his whole body feeling distinctly…warm.

“Are you sure you’re not the incubus? You’re very pretty,” the stranger teased, voice low and seductive.

Newt laughed weakly, looking down in embarrassment while the man crossed the room. He reached just passed Newt’s head and tipped the door to the room the last inch closed, the lock clicking automatically.

Now, Newt wasn’t the sort to be sleeping with just anyone. He wasn’t that type at all really. His experiences in sex were very few and mostly with him fumbling and feeling like a fool.

The stranger never told Newt his name but he did lay Newt down on the bed and make his body feel amazing. Newt hadn’t realized how good sex could be, how much he could experience and how high carnal pleasure could take him.

At some point, the incubus stopped hiding its form, but Newt was far too gone to even think straight, much less comment on it. He had long dark horns but surprisingly no wings. His eyes were golden and glowing. His skin around his hands and feet faded from a tanned brown into a magical blue-black, as if he had dipped them into something dark. He had claws but never used them. His feet were different, Newt knew that much but he never got a clear look at them, too distracted. The creature had Newt over and over, taking him and spilling in him, licking Newt’s neck and telling him lovely he looked spread out on the bed.

The incubus kissed wet and deep, his tongue was rather long Newt thought. But it felt marvellous. It felt all so delightful, every touch was perfect. Newt shivered as he came and whimpered for more, unable to do anything but want more.

Newt doesn’t know exactly when he lost consciousness. One moment he was kissing and being rutted into and the next moment he was waking up alone in the room.

Newt whimpered out pitifully, everything hurt, his poor body aching. The light from the window making his head throb and he clenched his eyes closed to avoid it. His thighs and backside burning in pain as he reached out blindly for his coat. His magic brought it to his fingers and inside his right pocket was an emergency potion. Newt took it quickly and then sighed out as the pain receded.

Newt relaxed into the pillow under his head slowly, feeling the potion work until the pounding in his head was more bearable. It felt like a very intense hangover and Newt wondered if he had been drained by the incubus. He tired to catalogue the sensations to record them later. He now had first-hand experience to work from. 

 

Something made a soft sound and Newt’s eyes flew open as he jerked up into a sitting position. He had been sure he was alone in the room; it was small with nowhere to hide.

The bottom part of the bed was a mess of blood.

Newt suddenly understood why his body ached so badly.

There was an infant between his knees, sleeping softly, cord still attached to an afterbirth between Newt’s thighs.

He had no idea where exactly the baby came out of and he doesn’t want to know right at that moment as the shock settled over him.

Fighting down panic, Newt reached for his wand. He cleaned the gory mess absently and brought over a clean towel to wrap the baby in. It was very clearly an incubus. A little male with tiny horns and a long thin tail. His little hands and feet have the same skin, fading into the blue-black at the tips. His feet were different too, more joints then a human with four long toes rather than human feet. He had dark hair and on his forehead are two little horn bumps.

Newt swallowed weakly and realized he was very much out of his depth.

He had no idea how to care for this tiny life in his hands, feeling so fragile and innocent in his careful grip. Newt had raised newborn creatures and orphans before but this felt like far more.

The stories of incubi were varied, some people casting such dark light on the poor creatures and others recalling them fondly. There was little known about them, some rumors suggested the succubi and incubi was a single being, able to change genders. How would he deal with such a thing? What would this baby need to grow strong and healthy?

There were some who claimed to have carried a half-breed child in the area. But Newt had looked into that as well but found the children all perfectly human. He did know better than to say that, nervous mothers who were supposed to have been virgins. Holding a true incubi babe proved his suspicions correct.

That was the problem at the heart of the matter though.

A lot of people blamed the creatures and claimed they saw them to cover more… carnal affairs with other people. So what was the truth and what was lies was rather hard to dissect for these unique creatures. Newt abruptly wondered if this was how the incubi last night had decided to educate him, by giving him an incubi child to raise. But with the information so varied and little proven, Newt wasn't sure he could take care of this little life. 

The child snuffled and slowly woke up, taking Newt’s full attention once more. Golden eyes peer up at Newt, wide and blameless as the baby cooed at him in innocuous delight.

“H-Hello,” Newt whispered and gathered the baby closer to him, wrapping him more up snugly as a tiny hand curl around one of his fingers. The baby sucked his own thumb, holding his head up and looking at Newt with curiosity. The child was more advanced than a human newborn, more alert with more motor control Newt observed.

Newt’s child whimpered and reached out, spit smeared hands stretching for him and his heart thumped painfully as he brought the baby to his chest awkwardly but gently. He cradled him as he had seen mothers do before.

“Oh, hello little darling,” Newt finally whispered softly, as if talking too loud would break the moment.

Something like awe settling over him. 

The baby turned his little head and nuzzled Newt’s bare skin. He was still nude he realized and the baby latched onto a nipple.

“Nothing there I’m afraid,” he chuckled and then startled a bit at the wet sensation. Then he blinked at the very odd feeling of…something. The baby pulled off and smacked his lips, milk bubbling on his lips as he latched again.

Newt was lactating.  

His chest looked the same, his other nipple looked normal but he could feel it, felt the baby nursing.

The child he delivered in a single night.

Despite being a man.

Clearly, the lore on the incubus was vastly underwhelming compared to the truth.

A tail curled around Newt’s wrist, holding tightly as the baby drank contently, blinking his golden eyes up at Newt. As if imprinting on him, looking up at his mother as Newt peered looked back down and felt his heart make room for this new life. 

“I suppose I’m your mummy, my little darling.”

 

“Mummy!” Percival wailed out and Newt felt that kneejerk reaction for the alarm in his son’s tone. Newt left the nundu enclosure and scanned for the boy, trying to calm the fear in him that something terrible had occurred.

Percival appeared, unharmed, but sobbing as he hurried to Newt and reached out to him, wanting to be picked up. Newt never could resist and scooped up his son, letting him cling close. Percival was a very tactile child and seemed to have some sort of magical power involving empathy, sensing emotions in others. When he was upset, the only thing that could calm him was to be hugged close by a composed Newt. He seemed to take that emotion into himself and use it to calm as well. Newt had learned a great deal about controlling his emotions these last few months in order to be there for his son. Percival’s little hand reached out and rested on Newt’s cheek, taking comfort in skin contract. The boy hiccupped a sob and his tears slowed, eventually, he began to quiet as Newt rocked him and kissed his hair and cute little horns.

“What’s wrong?” He asked when Percival seemed collected enough to answer. The lovely thing about Percival’s empathy was that he could project it as well, when they had skin contact, Newt could feel Percival’s emotions faintly. The boy was still distressed but much calmer now. He wasn’t hurt physically but something had troubled him terribly.

“I touched Frank,” Percival admitted miserably and Newt’s heart constricted in reaction. His poor boy.

Percival could feel other’s pain, could feel their fear and their agony.

Frank was an amazing thunderbird Newt had recently rescued and he was in terrible condition, feathers ripped out and used for potions, bits of his skin cut away, deeply embedded wounds from chains and half starved.

Newt’s heart hurt to see the magnificent beast so injured and that Percival had felt any measure of that made him hug his child much tighter. Newt had been researching frantically but he didn’t know if Percival would ever learn to control this ability. Or if he was both blessed and doomed to feel everything each time he touched a living creature.

“You must be careful love, you feel so much,” Newt gently cautioned. Percival was trembling too much for him to truly scold.

Newt thought of good things, of the first time Percival fed the mooncalves and his first wobbling steps on shaky feet, looking back to make sure Newt was there with him still. The soothing memories brought serenity and Percival sagged into it, sighing against Newt’s neck.

Pickett the bowtruckle clucked in worry, poking out of Newt’s shirt pocket.

Other creatures were looking too, checking that Percival was ok.

He had an amazing relationship with them, feeling them and bonding with them on a wonderful level. Percival had taught Newt so much about magical creatures, just by relaying their emotions.

“M’ok,” Percival whispered to Pickett and the bowtruckle chirped in relief.

“Why don’t we go and finish feeding Margret? She’ll be happy to see you, her little cub,” Newt teased and Percival giggled as he wiped at his tears. The nundu adored Percival and thought him her own young. Licking him to clean him every time she saw him and trying to share her food, always doting and endeared to him.

“I’m your cub though, right?”

Newt smiled.

“Of course, my darling boy,” Newt let his emotions run free, all the love he felt for his special little boy. Percival sighed, curling into the sensation of love as Newt carried him to the enclosure.

 

“Bastard,” Percival snarled, scrambling after Edgar the niffler. “Give it back!”

Newt fought a fond smile as he measured the feeds into buckets and listened to the ruckus behind him. Percival chased the niffler across the open areas, the little beast scrambling frantically. Who knew what he had stolen but Percival wasn’t one to be bested. He would hunt the niffler for days, had done so, setting harmless traps and spending hours thinking of ways to get him. It was honestly good exercise for them both.

Percival was growing so quickly and he needed to burn his energy, the suitcase beginning to feel tight with a wild boy running through it.

Five months since the day he was born, he looked like an adolescent and his mind was developing just as fast. He devoured education, read books and could recite them line for line after one read. Newt had made a notice-me-not charm for his son, so he could take him to libraries and let him read as he pleased.

Percival was wary of people but also fascinated with them, sitting on benches and watching for hours. He was learning to read them like his books, developing a unique ability to see into a person, to see the good and bad in them like marks on their skin. He learned that more slowly, taking his time. With common education, he was always eager for more, never satisfied until he knew everything there was to know.

So they also went to museums and art galleries, cultural events and religious places, everywhere Newt could think of where he could learn, he took Percival. They had been all over Europe as well, travelling from place to place while living in the suitcase. It was depleting Newt’s savings but worth it to see Percival learning so much and delighted with it all. He had fun like any child would, playing and learning games, but it was clear he had a passion for knowledge that Newt did his best to feed.  

Percival looked to Newt often for answers, utterly believing whatever he told him. It put a great deal of pressure on Newt, to carefully think his answers through before he said them. He understood now, the heavy weight of being a parent, of shaping a young innocent mind.

Percival was very adaptive as well, reacting quickly and keeping his wits. Always able to blend in no matter where they were. He could eat meat cooked or raw, or just vegetables alone, his diet seemed to be whatever was available.

His touch empathy remained very powerful but he did have a measure of control over it now, able to draw away from others enough to treat wounds and the like. Skin on skin let him feel and project emotions. He was fast and stronger than a human, very intelligent and able to think on his feet.

Just recently he had learned to make himself look human. It was an illusion, something he was projecting without actually changing himself. But Newt’s magic couldn’t sense it at all. No magical detection devices could either.

Percival, thankfully, seemed to come into his powers on instinct has he grew, his body just learning new things similar to walking and talking. There was no need for a guide to teach him. Newt was utterly grateful for those instincts has he had no real idea how to help as Percival discovered powers Newt hadn’t even known he would have.

“Are you ready?” Percival asked, suddenly right there watching Newt sort the food out. Newt didn’t start anymore but he was caught off guard still. Percival could move without a sound, could slip through crowds without touching anyone, his control really was precise. He’s given Newt a weak heart when he vanished as a boy.

“Almost done,” Newt reassured as Percival stepped in close and hugged Newt’s back to his chest. He was just tall enough to rest his chin on Newt’s shoulder and had preened for days when he realized it. So he let his son wrap around him, fingers worming under his shirt for skin contact as Newt worked. They had gotten good at this, Newt working with Percival curled up around him contently.

“I want to see festival lights when the sun goes down,” Percival reminded absently, watching Newt’s hands work. “The woman in the market said it was amazing to see.”

Newt hummed in agreement. He had seen this festival before and it was indeed lovely to watch the lanterns being lit. He divided the food up with care but did hurry a bit so they could go and find a good spot to watch everything.

He could feel Percival’s eagerness but also his happiness right where they were, standing close and working in the tranquil of the suitcase. Percival loved to see things but in the end, he always wanted to return home, into the suitcase where he felt the safest. Newt had to agree, it had come to feel like home to him as well.

 

“Show me,” Newt demanded, voice breathless and a touch desperate as Percival growled at his own carelessness but let Newt pry his hands from his side. He was slashed but not too deep, nothing deadly and Newt let out a breath, his shoulders drooping in relief. He slumped carefully against his grown son and thanked the heavens he was going to be fine. 

“I messed up, this is all my fault,” Percival grumbled and Newt reached a hand out, cupping Percival’s face and letting him feel that Newt blamed him in no way.

They had been out late and Percival had been practising holding his human illusion. He had been doing so well and it was flawless really. Newt should have known better though, to push the length of time he held it in such a dangerous area. They were out in the country lands, in an isolated area were Catholic religion ruled over all. Percival had lost his focus and his true form had shown. People had immediately screamed devil and they had been forced to run away from the village on foot. Thank Merlin, Newt had been carrying the case with him and not left it in some hotel.

Now they were safe, deep in a forest were no muggle would be able to catch up, much less find them.

Percival had been hurt in the chase but it wasn’t something Newt couldn’t treat. Resting a hand gently on the cut to keep pressure, Newt hugged him tightly with his other arm. Percival was sitting on a large boulder and Newt sagged down so he was kneeling between his thighs, clutching him close still.

“As long as you’re ok,” Newt breathed against Percival’s chest. “Darling, they would have accused me just as fast if they saw me use magic. Human’s fear what they don’t understand.”

Newt could feel Percival’s bitter self-disgust, knowing he was different from others.

“I think you are lovely and we are all singular in some way. It’s a good thing I believe.”

“Why must I hide from wizards and witches as well then?”

Newt sighed out, pressing his brow again Percival’s chest and feeling his son’s arms encircle and hug him, Percival’s chin resting in Newt’s hair.

“Because they would see what you are before they saw you for who you are. Magical Creatures are second-class citizens, beasts before people. They’re wrong of course, terribly wrong, but they won’t listen. If they knew, they would treat you less and I couldn’t stand it.”

“So I’ll hide forever?”

“I will change it, one day,” Newt promised and meant it so utterly. “I’m going to write books and make people understand. That you are just as much a person as they are. That you deserve everything they do.”

“I don’t care about that,” Percival muttered. “I just want to walk with you, be beside you always.”

“I can promise you that much then, I’ve never been ashamed to be beside you and I never will. I only fear for your safety.” Newt assured and he could feel Percival smile into his hair, his happiness bleeding through his pain at being rejected by others.

“I only need you mum,” Percival rumbled and Newt could feel that he spoke truthfully.

 

“What does sex feel like?”

Newt nearly dropped his quill in surprise but managed to keep hold of it. Percival was laid out on their shared bed, staring at the roof while Newt went over notes at his desk. It had only been a few weeks since they were run out of town and they had been staying close to one another.

Percival was at the right development state, Newt supposed, glancing over at him. He looked similar to his sire, tall and broad. Appearing in his mid-twenties despite being barely a year old. He had filled out but never managed to get taller than Newt, much to his annoyance. His horns were higher than Newt though, reaching up and curving back from his brow. His body was lithe and strong and he had mastered it so well so fast. He could control his body to a level that humans could not, his balance was remarkable and his core strength extraordinary. Percival could walk on his hands without any effort and scale up trees as if merely running. Newt wondered if it had to do with his tail perhaps, adding a balance of some sort. 

Either way, Percival was a sleek and powerful creature.

Very handsome as well.

Even with his glamour to hide it showed through. Many women flirted with him when they went out in public. Plenty of men as well. All of them drawn in by that easy smile. Percival had a bit of a predator around him as well, seeming in control and confident in all he did and people gravitated to him for it.

Newt supposed it made sense that Percival would take an interest in sex.

He was an incubus after all, Newt should be glad he hadn’t been curious about it as a child. He had a theory that it wasn’t the actual sex but skin contact that incubi sought. Percival seemed to gain something from Newt simply by holding him. His energy renewed in a way that was more than just normal. As if Percival was drawing strength from touching Newt. He never felt worse for it either, never felt drained or tired that he noticed. Newt’s health remained strong and he was hoping to prove succubus and incubus did not, in fact, drain life. He had learned so much about the creatures and he was confident he could write a passage on them that was positive and encouraging.

Although he was admittedly a little lacking in their sexual behaviour.

“It’s different with each person,” Newt began, trying to think of a proper way to explain sex to someone whose kind was known for it.

“It can be very emotional and loving, very personal and deep. Or it can be more carnal and less knowing. Some strangers meet and sleep together and never see one another ever again. Others meet and court and wait until they marry for life and have sex only after. Honestly, human sexuality is very wrapped up in morals in most places. But sex feels good, it’s a pleasurable act.”

“Like what?” Percival was watching Newt keenly. As far as Newt knew, Percival hadn’t discovered masturbation. Perhaps Newt should explain that and let him explore. But Percival never wanted to learn things on his own, always wanting a teacher, always hands on. He had never shown any signs either, never asked these questions before.

Newt flushed a touch.

“It’s a base act, like a massage a bit, you rather like those?”

Percival nodded.

With his rapid growth, his body cramped and ached terribly. Newt had gotten into the habit of giving him a good rub down and Percival utterly adored it. All the skin on skin contact seemed to leave him blissed out at the end. His sore joints relaxed and the pain in them soothed for a bit.

“It’s hard to explain sex. It feels good but it’s also more, in its own unique way.”

“Have you had lots of sex, mum?”

Newt flushed harder and shook his head in negative.

“Honestly, not very much. A few times with a woman, a few with a man and the night with your sire. I do like sex, but for me, it’s very intimate. I’ve only slept with people I loved, with the exceptions of your father. But everyone is different.”

Newt had loved all the people he had laid with, unfortunately, in the end, they had all left him. Newt was an oddity and he knew it, travelling the world and not interested in settling when others wanted too. Not that the blame was never his own, when pushed he had made choices of his own. Picking his work and creatures over budding relationships and losing loved ones for that decision. Newt had thought he might never marry and now with Percival, he was more certain he wouldn't. His son was all he needed, he had chased away that loneliness in Newt and left him content in a way he had never been before. Newt would be happy to stay with his child and when Percival was ready to leave him he would be fine with letters and visits. Newt loved his family but he knew the love he had for Percival sat atop all others. A mother's love.  

“People you love,” Percival repeated, pondering on it with a thoughtful expression.

“It means more, I find.” Newt added, not mentioning that the best sex he had ever had was with Percival’s sire. But then, he was an incubus and it was clear they had sexual prowess. Even Percival was seductive without trying, something about him just alluring in that base way.

“There is no real wrong way to go about it, as long as both people are willing.”

Percival nodded, his eyes keen in a way that spoke of months of research ahead. Newt resolved to get his son books on sex from various perspectives. To encourage him however Percival needed, he still might need sex to live one day, after all.

 

Newt began to wake with morning erections.

Percival and Newt still slept together, pressed close with minimum clothing so there was as much skin contact as Newt could give. Percival cherished the touch and it was clear he slept better with it. So as he grew, Newt never suggested they try separate beds, knowing Percival would be against it.

He charmed the bed a bit bigger as Percival grew and they slept together still, curled up tightly every night.

So waking up erect was obviously an issue.

Percival was not a heavy sleeper either. If Newt shifted to get up, he would wake.

Currently, Newt was laid out his back and Percival was on his side facing him, head pillowed on Newt’s chest, his one horn gently resting on Newt’s throat.

Swallowing, Newt stared up at the roof and willed his body to obey his commands.

Thankfully it went away before Percival woke.

But the next morning he woke the same way. Pressed stomach down onto the bed, he could feel his cock hard and needy.

Percival was curled up against him, eyes closed but his tail was slithering up Newt’s bare calf lazily, signalling he was awake.

“Is it late?” Newt yawned and Percival shook his head.

“Be a dear and start tea?” Of the two of them, Newt was the one to be slow to get up so it wasn’t unusual for him to ask Percival to begin breakfast. Smirking, Percival butted Newt’s shoulder playfully and then climbed over him to get up and out of bed.

Once he left the small room, Newt reached down and pressed a hand to his cock, willing it away.

 

It kept happening, near misses mixed with horrid shame.

Because Newt knew why he was getting erect. There was no doubt in his mind, no denial available.

Percival was gorgeous.

Newt’s body didn’t seem to care that it was his son.

Percival just hummed with sexual energy and Newt was responding to it. He was reacting to Percival draped over him every night, snuggled close wearing nothing but his tight sleeping his pants that were cut high on his muscular thighs. Bare skin warm against Newt’s own.

It was perverse and Newt cursed himself each morning. He began searching for spells of impotence. Trying to find something to ease his lust and help him stop this disgraceful reaction. Perhaps he simply needed to find someone to sate it with. It had been a long time since he engaged in sex. Percival’s sire had been a single night and it had been years before that. Newt never felt a strong urge towards carnal relations though. This was recent and he wondered if it was linked to the fact that Percival was half incubus and in his prime it seemed. Either way, it needed to be controlled.

In desperation, Newt thought perhaps a wank was in order. He hadn’t since he was a young boy but maybe it would help ease the urges.

So he sent Percival off one morning to try and collect the niffler for a fabricated check-up, a chore that would take an hour at best. Newt did need to make sure the little beast wasn’t carrying mites or any sort of parasites he supposed. It got out so often, it would be the one to bring them back.

Once Percival was gone for a bit, Newt left his work desk and sat on the bed, undoing his trousers. He unbuttoned his union suit and pulled his cock free. 

Closing his eyes, Newt tried to imagine past lovers, the things about them he had liked. He stroked himself as he pictured their bodies and then the incubus that had impregnated him. Newt tried to recall the feelings of that night, the lust and desire driving him in a way it had never done before. He had been noisy, moaning out and begging for more as the man loomed over him, smirking down and enjoying it all.

Newt bit his lip and ran his free hand up his thigh, thinking of how it felt to be opened up and taken. He rather liked being fucked, liked that his body could give such pleasure to someone. Newt’s cock came around, filling out as he recalled the details. The way the incubus had bitten at his neck as he fucked into him.

His hand tightened a bit and he gave the tip a good squeeze, feeling it run through his whole body, pleasure singing.

A hand on his knee made Newt jerked back, eyes flying open as he attempted to cover himself.

Percival was there.

Kneeling in front of him, the niffler on the desk with a charmed bit of gold that refused to go into its pouch and had it thoroughly distracted. Percival was kneeling and sitting back on his legs, he had to have been there for a few moments at least. He could move so soundlessly; it had been foolish to try this Newt thought.  

“S-Sorry,” Newt breathed, face burning red but Percival was staring at his cock, head tipped to the side curiously. Newt fumbled, trying to stuff himself back into his trousers and Percival’s hand took his wrists to stop him. His grip wasn’t harsh but he was so much stronger than Newt.

“What does it mean?” Percival whispered and Newt stared at him a moment. A horrid feeling filled him as he realized Percival had no real base education on sex. Nothing beyond the way that reproduction worked and a very rudimentary idea of intercourse.

“It’s…I’m erect,” Newt muttered, feeling his face burn so badly as he pushed through his embarrassment to give his son answers. “A human man will become erect when he’s sexually stimulated.”

Percival made a note of understanding, shifting and Newt realized he was hard as well, his cock pressing against his trousers. He wondered how long it had been happening and why Percival hadn’t told him of it. He never kept things from Newt.

“What were you doing?”

“M-Masturbating, it’s a form of sexual relief.”

Percival blinked, looking surprised and then intrigued.

“Will you show me?” He requested, utterly innocent and Newt ignored his own shame. Percival should know these things, should have known them a while ago.

“Of course,” Newt replied, running a hand through his hair nervously. “It’s…it’s very easy really. You just take hold and stimulate yourself. The friction, you see,” Newt explained weakly. He managed to give his cock a few strokes in demonstration.

Percival opened his own trousers, watching Newt’s hand closely and digging himself out of his underclothing.

He was very large.

It made sense, incubus and all.

His cock was thick and long, hard already with the head dripping a touch.

Newt watched Percival try to replicate the motion, his hand sliding up and then down.

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” Percival frowned, looking down and watching his hand move as he tried again.

“The friction, should be…nice.” Newt bit his lip, unable to look away as his son stroked his large cock, up and down, his hand curling around the fat thing.

Percival made an unhappy noise and shifted, his hand coming to clutch Newt’s knee as he spread his own knees on the floor and tried again.

“Better?”

Percival shook his head, looking genuinely frustrated. Newt sighed out, leaning in a bit and Percival’s brow touched his chin.

“Close your eyes and focus, think of something that excites you sexually, makes you hard, a thought or idea.”

Percival obeyed, closing his eyes and pressing a touch closer, his warm breath against Newt’s throat.

“What am I doing wrong, mum?” he muttered, voice discouraged.

“Hush, you have to learn with time, like everyone else,” Newt reassured him.

Without thinking on all the reasons why he shouldn’t, Newt reached out. Poised on the edge of the low bed with Percival kneeling right before him, it was easy to reach down and rest his hand over Percival’s own. Newt showed him how to stroke, building an easy rhythm and Percival’s breath finally hitched in a telling way.

He could feel the pleasure coursing through Percival. His empathy sharing this new sensation. Percival had never masturbated clearly and was enraptured with the new feeling.

“Better now?”

Percival nodded. He swallowed and shifted a bit closer to Newt. His long fingers pulled away and slid back over Newt’s hand, pressing his own fingers to the length of Percival’s cock, Percival’s hand covering Newt’s now.

Fighting terrible urges, Newt let him. He stroked his son’s cock, gripping it more firmly and gliding with the ease of experience. He twisted his wrist at the tip to run the head of Percival’s cock over his palm.

Percival moaned out in reaction, a low sound that rumbled through his chest. He dipped forward, head resting on Newt’s shoulder as his free hand curled around Newt’s hip and gripped onto his shirt like he had as a child. He clung to Newt, shivering as his hips began to push into the motions of his mother’s hand.

It felt good, Newt’s mind trying to understand the pleasure washing over him that wasn’t his own.

“That’s it,” Newt breathed, pressing his cheek to the side of Percival’s head, over his ear, and holding him close as he stroked him a bit faster. “It’s all about sensations, about the feel of your hand and the grip. Some people use oil to make it move easier as well.”

Percival hummed in a way that said he wasn’t hearing a word of what Newt was saying. It was so reminiscent of when Newt rubbed his back that he smiled a bit, endeared.

“Mum,” Percival gasped out, hand clutching Newt’s waist tighter as Percival rose up.

He went from sitting on his heels to up onto his knees. Newt had to spread his thighs to accommodate as Percival kept hugging him close. He jerked when Percival’s cock brushed against his own. His exposed prick somehow forgotten.

His grip loosened on his son’s erection and immediately Percival’s hand was pressing him back, gripping at his fingers to keep him holding on. Newt could feel the worried rush to keep him there and so he resumed his motions. 

“It’s good, feels so good,” Percival said, voice soft and hitched, a bit of wonder to his tone.

“Sexual pleasure,” Newt explained quietly in return. He looked down, watching his hand continue to work the long thick cock. Percival was very well endowed, it showed more when his cock was close to Newt’s own. It seemed small and delicate in comparison and he had always thought he was average.

“Like this?”

Percival’s hand reached out and took a loose hold of Newt’s cock. His fingers curled around the length and began to mimic Newt’s motions.

It felt amazing, better than his own hand had ever felt before. How had Percival not felt good under his own hand, when he gripped and moved over Newt so perfectly. 

Newt nodded weakly, face burning as he dropped it to Percival’s shoulder and hid away.

His hand kept moving through, picking up pace and Percival followed him moving faster as well. Anything he did, his son tried to replicate.

Percival’s chest began to rise and drop faster, his breath catching as his hips swayed. Newt could feel him beginning to twitch in his hand, his fingers running over the vein along the underside and feeling it pulse. Percival was close. 

“Mum,” Percival sounded a touch panicked and Newt pressed him closer, their knuckles bumping as they both worked steadily.

“That’s it, sweetheart, it’s alright,” Newt soothed as Percival hissed out, dropping his chin on Newt’s shoulder, his free hand still clutching at Newt’s side tightly, holding on to steady himself. The pleasure was building up now, rising to a climax and Percival was loving it but overwhelmed as well. Pushing his emotions onto Newt as he whined out and thrust into his mother’s warm tight hand.

“Don’t fight it, just enjoy it,” he coaxed and Percival shuddered.

With a loud gasp, he came finally. His own hand stopped on Newt’s cock but he didn’t mind, stroking Percival steadily through his first orgasm, moving his wrist and using everything he had to make it good.

Percival came in long spurts, white creamy semen splattering on Newt’s shirt and running down his hand and forearm. Newt moaned out as well, the pleasure going too high for him not to come as well. It echoed through him, Percival’s climax roaring through them both and pushing them over together. His own cock laid in his lap, spitting semen as Newt gasped out.

All too soon, Percival slumped forward and panting for breath and trembling in the aftermath of his first sexual experience.

Newt curled his free arm around his son’s shoulders, noting absently that they had gotten so broad. He hushed his child, rocking him a bit until Percival caught his breath and his shaking slowed and stopped. Newt felt just as shaken as Percival was projecting, this new pleasure going between them, wonder of how good such a simple thing could feel.

“Could you be a dear,” Newt requested, pulling back slowly. “And fetch me a warm wet cloth to clean this up?” Newt had gotten most of it, on his hand and arm, along his thigh and up his shirt, long streaks of come clung to him. It was a surprising amount.   

Percival nodded and went readily to get it. Newt could feel the echoing of his contentment, his happiness of this shared experience. 

Newt waited until he was gone before he slumped back onto the bed. Running his clean hand through his hair and then covering his face with his forearm, shame burning through him.

It had been so amazing.

It was clear Percival would want to explore more and expected Newt to be his teacher.

“This is a fine mess,” he whispered to himself softly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Percival's pov as he seduces his mum. >:3

 

Percival could remember being born.

The books on human infancy made it clear they recalled little, not until years into their life did they retain anything meaningful.

Another way he was different he supposed.

But it was for the best, his mum adored his magical creatures, to such a level that Percival knew being different was a good thing, that it drew mum in.

Percival could recall his mum’s face when he opened his eyes for the first time, all wide and shocked looking as he cradled Percival close, like he was precious. His voice soft and warm, accepting and safe. The taste of milk and the feel of skin on his own, Percival could recall the emotions as well. Astonishment and more importantly, a great deep love blooming. He had read books about imprinting, that the first moments could be crucial.

He wondered if he would have been altered, if he came into the world and his first contact with another living being had been negative. At the end of such thoughts he always came back to the truth. He had been born and his mum had picked him up and loved him from the start. That was who Percival was.

His mum’s son.

All he would ever need was his mother's love.

 

Mum liked to hum softly, sometimes not even knowing he was doing it. A soft wordless song as he held Percival in one arm and wrote with the other. It was late and Percival should be in bed already but he wanted his mum, wanted him close.

Percival only ever felt safe when he was touching his mum.

So he sat perched on his knee, curled to his chest and sucking his thumb as mum did work. Percival didn’t mind mum working late, he had many things to write and he learned so much each day. The world was great and oh so vast, it felt like Percival could learn his whole life and still know little. But his mum was clever and brilliant, the best mum really.

“Shall we go to bed soon?” Mum asked, voice low and strained with hints of tired. Percival reached out and touched mum’s cheek, feeling the exhaustion in him.

“Right away,” he replied, making a wide yawn to show his own sleepiness. Percival knew his mum would resist for himself, but if it was for someone else, he would go more willingly.

“Do you want to lay down by yourself?”

Percival shook his head, tugging on his mum’s shirt impatiently.

“Mummy too,” he pled and his mum smiled, a warm thing and Percival didn’t have to be touching him to know he was feeling love for his child. Percival looked up, eyes wide and pleading and mum broke quickly. Putting down the quill, he let the ink put itself away and the lights dimmed magically as he lifted Percival up onto his hip and abandoned the desk for the bed across it. Mum kicked off his boots and set Percival down on the bed. Used to the routine, Percival crawled over the blankets and pulled them up and fluffed the pillows how mum liked. He got the bed all ready as mum undressed for the night. Percival already had his sleeping shirt on and soon mum did too, lifting the blankets for Percival to scramble under before he got in too.

They snuggled in close together and Percival was careful where his horns were as he laid down on his tummy and wiggled against his mum’s side imploringly.

With a warm chuckle, mum obediently began rubbing Percival’s back and he sighed out, his very bones feeling like they were melting under the touch.

“My darling boy,” mum said softly, pressing a kiss to Percival’s one horn, the touch tingling in a nice way.

“Love you,” he mumbled out, wanting his mum to always know.

“I love you too, dearest.”

 

And so Percival grew up knowing he was loved, that his mum adored him above all others. No mates ever came around. The nearest thing Percival had to competition was the creatures in the suitcase with them and Percival was careful to settle ahead of them all. Most creatures he could bribe to be on his side and his mum loved when Percival interacted with them so he made sure to often when mum was around. When he was off doing important things Percival interacted in different ways.   

Edgar the niffler ran for his very life, Percival hot on his trial as they tore through the grounds. Only a few months ago, Percival could never have kept up but now he was so close to catching the pest. His fingers grazed fur when he reached out and Percival growled in delight.

A sudden appearance made him jerk to a stop and the niffler was lost and Margret the nundu leaned down to sniff at Percival in greeting.

Panting a bit, he huffed in annoyance and Margret seemed more amused than anything. She reached out a large paw to swipe at him without claws and Percival dodged. He changed games quickly, being the prey now as the big predator followed him. His tail slithered behind him as he got himself up a tree and peered down to see what Margret would do.

She jumped into the tree easily, knocking the whole thing down.

The niffler nest was in the roots and the sound of coins and trinkets hitting the ground followed the loud crack of the tree trunk. Margret grabbed Percival harmlessly in her jaws and he grunted as they rolled down in the grass.

Edgar appeared to screech at them both, his poor den ruined. The little beast liked it just right, everything in its perfect place. If Percival moved things even a touch, Edgar was scolding as he put it back.

The niffler climbed onto Percival’s back, yanking at his hair in revenge as Percival ignored the small creature and wrestled with Margret.

“Oh my goodness,” mum’s voice was more amused than angered so Percival didn’t worry. He put on his best charming grin and looked up at his mum. He was standing over them all, peering at the broken tree and the three of them roughhousing.

He had his learning look on his face so Percival knew there was no trouble brewing.

“It’s remarkable, how strong you are,” mum mused and Percival felt a burst of pride flow through him. Margret felt it through him, his emotions bleeding a bit. With a huff, she knocked him right down to the ground with one good smack, Percival hitting the grass hard as the nundu rolled onto her side and got up.

“Are you ok?” mum was right there, long delicate fingers running through Percival’s hair to look him over. He projected a touch of hurt and his mum was immediately babying him, cuddling Percival close as he hoped.

“Stop that now, off with you both, you’re too rough,” mum shooed the niffler away and Margret as well, helping Percival up and curling a protective arm around him.

Margret knew she hadn’t hurt him and flicked her tail in indifference as she prowled away. Edgar waved his tiny fists but mum was more worried about Percival than the ruined den. Fighting a grin, Percival clung to his mum and reassured himself that while mum loved all his creatures, Percival was by far the favoured one.

 

Age was an odd thing. Humans aged incredibly slowly, like a snail trying to go up a tree, inch by slow inch, taking forever. Percival grew with more speed and grace, he learned faster and took more in than most humans. They travelled the world and mum always made time to show Percival things, to teach him about the world. Percival’s mind was different in that he could look at a book and always recall the words after, never forgetting. Humans seemed to need multiple tries to memorize, another way he was different. 

Percival made sure to learn things on his own as well, not just from books.

The librarian giggled, voice muffled as the man rucked her skirts up. Percival was up on the top of a bookshelf, perched and unseen by his mum’s magic. He peered as he wished, watching the flash of pale skin of the woman’s thigh and her wet cunt covered in dark hair. The man rushed to shove his cock into her and she seemed to enjoy the rough behaviour.

Percival had seen many human’s mating; he could smell it on all creatures. It stood out to him, the flavour of lust and hunger of base desire. He watched the pair mate, fucking in a public place, thinking no one would see a thing. Most humans like to think that way he found, they thought no one would see or that no one would notice.

So far, Percival favourite was the men down by the river.

They were out on a warm summer afternoon in an old deep forest far from big cities.

Mum was fascinated with a spider that could weave your middle name in its web and Percival had smelt the scent of sex. Not male and female though, male and male. He had been immediately interested and mum had merely warned him not to ‘go too far’. Percival could hear within a mile, they had tested it, so he was certain he wouldn’t misplace his mum. He never liked being too far for too long anyway.

But the scent was intriguing so Percival followed it to the river bank.

Two men were there rolling around in the mud, laughing as they wrestled. Percival found a safe and hidden perch and settled in to watch.

They were both naked, both dripping wet from an evening swim it seemed. Their roughhousing turned and suddenly they were kissing, one pinning the other down. Percival watched the man on top pull away and suddenly shove the man under him, making him turn on his stomach.

Their clothing was nearby and the dominant male fetched something, a little bottle. He opened it and made his fingers wet. Perking up, Percival watched the man slick the other, finger going up into his ass. Tail wiggling in curiosity, he watched the man push his cock into the other, rutting into him.

Male and male copulation, homosexual sex.

Percival watched them move, the way the dominant pinned the other and thrust into him, hips working hard and fast.

“Percival?” Mum’s voice made him start, as if he might be right behind him, but he was far off still. With another moment spent watching the two men, Percival made himself leave, going to find his mum.

 

Everyone smelt different, Percival tried to explain once to his mum, that his smell was more clear then people’s faces. It was more true; people’s faces could lie but their scents never did. Emotions and sensations, anger or pain, joy and pleasure, Percival could smell it all. Under all those layers of feelings, was a base smell, unique to each person with nothing to compare it too. Emotions could be described, anger was spicy and red hot, joy was sweet and cool, calm made Percival think of soft rain and the smell of his mum’s hair. But everyone’s smell was all their own, with nothing like it. Percival found them fascinating, like new faces, new scents were always interesting.

But by far, his most cherished and beloved scent belonged to his mum of course. Nothing compared to it, the scent of his home and safety, everything good all wrapped up into a smell Percival could have whenever he wanted.  

“I need to finish,” mum complained lightly, letting Percival leaned heavy on his shoulder, nose buried in his mum’s neck. He could feel his mum’s focus, his mind moving a mile a minute to put down the information learned today into words on paper.

Percival hummed in agreement and snuggled in, hugging his mum from behind, arms wrapped around his middle without hindering him. He was almost as tall as mum now, he just needed a few more inches and he would be the taller one.

Percival floated in his mum’s emotions, calm and a bit excited still from new discoveries, content and at ease with Percival close.

There was the faint tang of discomfort, not exhaustion but the call to eat. Percival huffed into his mum’s neck and then pushed away, going to find something to feed his mum. He was half tempted to start feeding his mum with the creatures, to add ‘mum’ to the feeding schedule. He was terrible at minding himself for someone who looked after so many others so flawlessly.

Percival pulled open the magical icebox and rooted around, finding some chicken leftovers and bread. It would do. He made simple sandwiches with meat and some salt and then cut them up into neat fours. Pouring some water, he took his meal back to his mum’s desk. Percival didn’t ask, just held up a sandwich and mum took a bite without noticing, trained to eat after months of teaching. Percival fought a smile as his mum ate the sandwich while writing the whole time, accepting drinks of water as well.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Mum asked without looking away from his work.

“Very,” Percival agreed easily, feeling his tail slither in delight. Any attention from his mum was good attention. “Someone has to feed you.”

“Yes, where would I be without you?” Mum teased as he put down his quill finally. He stretched out, shoulders popping as he sighed out. Reaching out, he tugged Percival’s chin down, bleeding adoration as he pressed a fond kiss to Percival’s brow, between his horns.

“Thank you, my dear, shall we go see what’s happening in the outside world?”

Percival frowned and shook his head.

He leaned into his mum, so suddenly that he lost his balance on his chair and toppled over, Percival twisting them last second so they fell on the bed together instead of the floor. Taking advantage, Percival snuggled up, pressing in close and sighing out.

“Nap time then?” mum asked and Percival huffed in agreement. He closed his eyes to pretend to sleep, instead taking some time to just languish in the feel of his mum, all warm comfort and safety. Long fingers ran through his hair, idly petting him and Percival melted into his mum’s side happily, pushing the utter contentment onto his mum and feeling him return it.

This was happiness, the steady smell of his mum’s scent filling his nose, Percival felt like this was what it meant to be drunk. His whole body woozy but pleased, nothing but good things in his mind.

Perfection.

 

Percival was greedy.

He knew that much.

He just wasn’t a good sharer, unless it was with his mum. Sometimes he growled at creatures over his food and he hated it when other slept in their bed, it was for him and his mum, not the demiguise. Percival would roll on the bed when mum wasn’t looking, trying to get the scents right again.

Of all the possessive urges in him though, he felt the urge to snatch his mum up most often. Mostly around other people when they were outside the suitcase. His mum was lovely and seemed so frustratingly unaware of it. He would be talking about creatures or locations or this or that and not even know the person listening was lusting for him. Head tipped down and eyes looking off as people stared at him hungrily.

It was disgusting, to sully his mum with their base want. Percival had loathed it as a child and as a grown incubus, he still despised it. It made him want to pull back his lips and snarl, to stand tall and warn the men and women off. Mum was his, not theirs, they had no right.

When Percival looked like a grown man, mum couldn’t introduce him as his son anymore. So he would say ‘good friend’. Percival had preferred that and said so, never explained it to mum why he liked those exact words. But mum would use that term and whenever he did Percival made sure the people knew what it meant. He’d reach out and touch mum, a hand on his shoulder or waist. Mum was so used to it he never noticed but the stranger always did. Always saw the possessive gesture for what it was.

Mum was his.

No other.

It took time to think of mum as ‘Newt’ as well. Few children ever thought of their parent by their given name Percival supposed. But when they were among others he couldn’t call Newt ‘mum’ without drawing stares. Men didn’t commonly carry children and for a man to be called ‘mum’ and not ‘pa’ by a child was odd in itself, much less with Percival ageing so quickly.

He disliked the change because his mum would always be his mother. But he also liked it a bit because calling mum Newt was another way to put them on a more equal footing. Percival and Newt, together as partners rather than Newt and his son, taking care of the child.

Percival was eager to grow up and be the one to take care of his mum. To be his mate and to make sure all others left them alone.

Newt belonged to Percival.

 

When they were out researching once, the guide wanted Newt. A wizard who was so full of lust Percival could barely stand the sight of him, much less to be in smelling distance. Naive, sweet, Newt didn’t understand it and Percival didn’t bother to try and explain. Mum never believed him when he said people wanted him. There was so much self-doubt in him about these things, unable to see his own charming beauty and the fact that he was lovely to look at.

To Newt, the guide was just being friendly with him too, being nice and helpful and he thought the man was being sociable, that they were friendly like.

Newt liked that.

Liked the idea that he was doing well at being social.

Percival felt no urge at all to have other people around him but he wasn’t a human, wasn’t meant for such things. He only wanted his mate at his side and all other to keep their distance. It was odd for incubi not to crave more attention but Percival never has. His mother was all he needed.  

Still, he didn’t want to hurt Newt’s feelings of acceptance, so he tolerated the other man.

On their last night with him, the man was to head back in the morning, they sat around a fire together. They were deep in the forest now and Newt would find his way through now that he was taken to the known location of magical creatures. The guide was only paid to take them, not stay or return them.

The man brought out a drink, something warming, some sort of alcohol.

He shared with them, encouraging them to drink up on their last night together. After a bit of weedling, Newt let Percival have some as well. Still mothering a bit as he watched Percival sip. He liked that, how Newt was still his mother in so many ways that would never fade away as Percival looked less like a child and more like a grown man.  

While he hadn’t tasted much alcohol in his life, Percival knew the taste wasn’t right. Something sour on his tongue with a tingle of hidden magic, something more than the burn of booze. Newt drank it easily enough and didn’t seem to sense anything wrong with it. But he also didn’t drink very much, never one for such excess things. So they sat by the fire and talked into the night, the bottle passed around but not drained dry. The guide took heavy gulps without hesitation and Percival wondered if he knew the bottle was laced with something or not. When something was poisonous, it would taste very bitter and so Percival knew this wasn’t going to harm his mother. So he sat quiet and sulking, watching to see what would happen next.

The man said he goodbyes that night, explaining that he would be gone come first light and they should sleep later than that.

Newt agreed, swaying a bit as he stood up. Percival felt his hackles rise and a snarl in his throat, unease warning through him. He helped his mum to bed, a tent set up to hide the depth of the suitcase and the secrets within it. Newt slipped into the cot and Percival crawled in with him, guarding him.

He could tell his mum was off, sleeping too deeply, his breath steady and true. Pressing his ear to Newt’s chest, Percival could hear his heart beating slower than normal. He was alright, not in danger from the potion.

So Percival waited.

The man came creeping into their tent, like a snake slithering into a nest of young, a viper looking for a baby bunny to devour.

Percival laid still, waiting as the rage burned in his chest. The man had his wand out but once he was sure they were both sleeping, both drugged, he set it aside. He pulled the blanket off them and pushed Newt onto his back, crawling over Percival’s body to get at the other man. The lust was rolling off him; it was clear he had intended to rape Percival’s mother.

Revolting.

Percival twisted up and got a hand around the man’s throat, slamming him into the ground and listening to him choke. The lust in him twisted into fear immediately. His hands grabbed at Percival’s arm uselessly, like a twig smacking a tree trunk.

Percival had long learned to pretend to look human, he wore a mask around people.  A magical glamour he had perfected and very few wizards or witches could see past. This guide had thought he was a human; he had drugged him as one.

Percival was immune to such things, potions never working on him for good or bad.  

Now he snarled down, teeth bared as his glamour vanished and a monster replaced it. He made his features hard and cruel, pointed teeth gleaming as he hissed down at the man. His eyes glowing gold with all the hate he felt for this disgusting man and what he sought.

Percival strangled him.

How dare he touch his mother, how dare he try to steal such a thing, such a perverse creature. A man like that didn’t deserve to live surely.

So he killed him. Choked the life out of him and sat back when he was dead, frowning at the corpse. Mother would be upset, wouldn’t understand.

So Percival burned it.

Dragged it out into the fire and broke the man up into pieces and fed it to the flames. His powers weren’t like a wizard or witch, Percival didn’t use a wand or anything, he just wanted something and then it happened. So the fire burned hot, hot enough to burn bones into nothing. He burned the man’s supplies as well.

Dougal and Edgar came out and watched him, smelling the death. It was a strange smell, death. Not entirely bad or good. Death meant something wasn’t alive anymore and that could mean danger. But Death also meant meat and that meant life. It was a strange sort of thing, wrapped up in instincts and hunger and fear.

Newt wouldn’t understand it; humans had lost their instincts in some way. They would always sense them and then always disregard them for some reason. Always second guess.

The creatures understood death, but Newt wouldn’t.

So Percival decided to keep it a secret. He cleaned the mess and went back into the tent to check on mum.

He was breathing deep still, drugged with a potion of some kind. Percival crawled over his mum carefully, making sure he was on his back and breathing well. He gently pried open his mouth and scented his breath, trying to pick apart what he was dosed with. The sour of the alcohol drowned out everything else though, even dinner was erased on his breath. The potion was well hidden.

But mum’s heart was true and steady.

Dougal would have warned them if they were being poisoned fatally, if Newt were dying he would be more panicked. Instead the demiguise was fascinated with the tent poles, climbing them. The niffler was looking over the few shiny things Percival had let him take from the guides supplies, general enough not to be obvious.

They would just have to wait then.

Newt breathed long and deep under Percival and he peered at him. He liked to watch mum sleep and had plenty over the years. His long lashes closed and his mouth all full and plush. Percival wasn’t certain why but he really liked Newt’s full mouth. It seemed perfect to him in a fixating way.

He nudged the lower lip and mum didn’t wake, Percival running his fingers along the soft skin.

Newt slept on.

Curiosity overtook him, Percival leaning in to scent his mum’s neck. He scented his hair and his brow and rubbed their cheeks together. Newt was calm in his sleep, content.

Percival’s tail twitched as he shifted nervously and leaned down carefully.

His opened his mouth and dipped out his tongue, swiping his mum’s upper lip. It tasted good, tasted like mum smelt, that unique scent made into a taste. Percival licked his lips and liked it immensely. He leaned back down and licked his mum’s chin, along his cheek and on the tip of his nose. His mouth was best but the spot behind his ear was good too.

Percival tipped his mum’s head up a bit and gently pried his jaws to part a bit so his lips opened a little. He could wiggle his tongue into his mum’s mouth that way, licking at his spit and liking it. It was warm and nice, the contact making him feel a bit dizzy.

Percival turned his head to the side so he could seal their mouths more tightly and he could lick in deeper, along his mum’s teeth and gums, swiping into every little spot he could.  

He pulled back, rubbing the spit on his chin with the back of his hand. Percival could feel something in him, something waking up, something so hungry he might never fill it.

Mum was dressed still, his vest undone but still on. Percival pushed it aside and undid mum’s shirt. They were in a hot climate, somewhere in Australia, and so mum had no undershirt on.

His bare skin looked so pretty. Percival knew every freckle on his chest, knew where they all were and how many they were. He had grown up tracing them idly. Now he followed those old lines with his tongue, lapping at the skin with mounting greed.

He pushed his mum’s shirt open more and latched onto a nipple, feeling an instant soothing sensation as he sucked. It made him think of his mum’s milk and his tongue flicked at the nipple as he longed for that creamy taste once more. He sucked on the other one as well, peering at them both critically until they were both puffy and swollen up, red and shining with spit. Strangely satisfied with that, he sniffed at his mum’s armpit, his soft hairs there saturated with scent, with his mum’s smell. Percival licked greedily, struggling to get his mum’s arm out a bit more so he could bury his face into the crook and lick as much as he wanted.    

A cool bit of air came from the tent flaps and Percival felt his mum shiver a bit. The air wasn’t too cold but Percival sat up, frowning in worry. He pulled his mum’s shirt back closed and buttoned him up, pulling the blanket over them and curling in close to make sure his mum was warm enough.

The hunger sat in Percival’s gut but he pushed it back, in no rush, his mum wasn’t going anywhere.

So he snuggled down and watched his mum sleep.

They woke up and packed up camp, Newt not noticing anything was off as they left to head a bit deeper into the forest. If he felt any aftereffects of the potion he didn’t say anything, moving the same and not seeming odd or anything worrying.

They were going to come out at a different spot and if they received word of a missing man, Percival would pretend he knew nothing, that the guide must have been lost on the way back.

It was an empty worry, no one even mentioned the guide when they emerged three weeks later with plenty of information on Billywigs.

Percival supposed he should care more. Books painted things like remorse or guilt that haunted murders. Entire plays and songs were written about such things. Emotions that ate people up.

Percival had mostly forgotten it already.

The man, he didn’t even recall his name, had tried to hurt Newt. Had tried to take something he had no right to.

He had deserved to die.

Anyone who hurt Percival’s mum deserved death.

“Come along,” Newt called and Percy nodded, hurrying to his side and nudging his shoulder, rubbing his head along his mum’s shoulder to make him smell more like him. Newt smiled and held out his hand. Percival took it eagerly, they held hands so rarely since he grew tall and he missed it. Interlacing his fingers, Percival grinned when Newt began to hum lightly, everything right in the world.

There was no place for guilt in this right feeling.

 

Percival knew the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat.’

But he was the worst for leaving anything alone, he loved learning and always wanted to know more. He could read entire libraries in a few weeks and still want more. His mind was an endless vault of written knowledge and he longed for more yet. He wanted to experience things first hand and when he did he wanted to know everything he could. Fixate, his mum would tease.  

Now he had a taste of Newt and he wanted more.

Wanted so much more.

Something in him rumbled.

Percival knew he could hold his mum down if he wanted, could just push him over his desk or a table and pin him down. He never would, but he could, he was stronger than a human. He could use force if he wanted to.

But there was no urge in him to do such a thing, no need so desperate that he would ever want to hurt Newt.

He loved his mum.

Percival would never hurt him, ever.

But he was curious and Newt slept like the dead when he was right tired.

So Percival licked him again, not in his mouth, that would wake him for certain. He could listen to his mum’s heartbeat and know when he was waking up. So he could lick his neck and chest, that little spot behind his ear.

Percival loved licking Newt’s nipples, it reminded him of nursing and he missed it, wanted to suckle again. To have that special time with his mum. He would spend time licking his mum’s armpit too, getting that taste on his tongue. The small of his back was good too, the sweat would collect there like a little offering for Percival. He understood that humans didn’t care for such scents but to Percival it was mouth watering, the urge to press his face against his mum and mix their scents was strong. When they both faintly scented of each other it felt good, like a hand rubbing his back, soothing. Right. 

Newt’s body would react too. It would slowly stir with desire and Percival would feel and feed it, would lick and suck until it was strong. Until Newt’s cock would get nice and hard.

The smell of it made his mouth water every time. The urge to put his mouth on it was so strong but Percival resisted, Newt would surely wake to that.

But with time he would be able too, he would have his mother in every way possible. Percival was certain of that.

Everything seemed to build up, as if Percival only has to wait long enough and what he wanted would be his. It was a strange certainty but Percival trusted it. It came from the same place his instincts did, his first steps and first magic came from the same spot inside him. A simple knowing, testing out carefully and then learning something new. It whispered to him to wait, to be patient.

So Percival did his best, he helped Newt with his work and he made sure he was well fed and got enough sleep. He looked after his mum and did his best to prove himself, that he wasn’t just a child anymore, he was an equal. He could be a partner.

They could be mates.

Percival asked Newt about sex and his mum linked it to love, talked about bonding and Percival could feel excitement deep in his belly. Newt had no strong bonds except Percival himself. He had his parents and brother but they had their own lives and were far away. Percival was right there, strong and sure, always there with him.

Part of Percival wanted to ask, wanted to try and explain why they should mate but he made himself wait. The thing in him making him go quiet every time he opened his mouth to explain. Wait, it told him, just wait for the perfect moment.

So Percival waited.

 

Percival knew the instant his mum was touching himself, the scent of sex rising in the suitcase like a beacon. He rushed back and caught Newt, eyes closed and touching himself, a hand stroking his cock.

He looked so glorious, so pretty and perfect.   

Percival shivered and knew he couldn’t wait anymore. Pounce that thing whispered to him and so Percival stepped forward to make his claim.  

Newt startled badly when he opened his eyes and saw Percival. But he didn’t get up and leave, didn’t startle and shy away. He swallowed and looked so unsure but he didn’t stop.

“What does it mean?” Percival asked him, wanting to know what this meant. If mum was finally seeing Percival as a potential mate, as someone to bed with.

“I’m erect,” Newt explained instead, talking of sex and masturbation and Percival knew then his mum wasn’t ready yet. Not to accept him as a mate. He still saw Percival as his child before anything else.

“Show me?” He asked Newt, instead of talking of mates. It was a bit underhanded but Percival just needed something, needed just a little moment for himself. He needed to be greedy and then he could wait, a taste to show him what he was working towards.

He coaxed Newt to show him, kneeling before him, his mum sitting on the edge of their bed. Both of them with their pants open and their cocks out.

His mum had a cute cock, it was small and sweet looking. Percival’s was thick and heavy, he hoped Newt would take it without pain.

His mum tried to talk him through it, tried to explain but Percival wasn’t after his own palm. Masturbation never felt good for him, he’d tried a few times and felt nothing. His cock would only stiffen when he was touching Newt, when his mum was sleeping and sexually excited. Percival needed that to wake his own up he discovered. Percival could feel the desire and urge but he wasn’t like a human, he didn’t get hard. Not until he was touching someone sexually excited he supposed. Though he only intended to ever touch Newt.

When he managed to get his mum to touch him, to stroke his cock it felt amazing. Something in Newt shifted too, he stopped resisting so hard as Percival nudged in close and hugged him. Percival’s mind was dizzy with lust, his own and Newts feeding back to one another like a loop that had no end. It was overwhelming and Percival he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his mum’s hand on him and how wonderful it all felt.

He came in his that calloused warm hand, far too quickly from watching others mate, but his mum didn’t seem to mind. They came together, Percival feeding his emotions and the sensations to Newt, making him feel the pleasure until they were both shaking apart.

Newt was upset in the aftermath, that much was clear. He asked Percival to got get a rag to clean up the mess and he went compliantly, not wanting to push mum too far too fast.

His first time with Newt, they hadn’t kissed but they would.

Percival took his time fetching what was asked, going over the sensations over and over, taking them apart and examining each one. The lust and hunger, the feeling of possessiveness, another part of his mum for himself. Percival would have everything he decided. If he was careful and clever he would have this part of his mum.

They would be mates.

Percival just had to be careful.

He took the washcloth back and made sure Newt was feeling better before going to fetch something to eat. Percival was good at cooking now, lighting a small stove flame to cook chopped meat and vegetables. Creatures came and Percival shared with them while making sure to save plenty for Newt.

He fed him and let Newt work until it was late.

They went to bed and once the lights were out, Percival carefully reached out and touched their hands. They were usually curled up but he didn’t want to press too hard. So he took his mum’s hand gently and felt him return the touch.

“Come here,” Newt finally beckoned and Percival went quickly, curling up to his mum tightly.

“You know I love you?” Percival asked in the darkness. “More than anything. Right?”

“I know, I love you too,” Newt replied and Percival snuggled into his mum’s chest, minding his horns.

 

Percival was a bit obsessed with his mum’s nipples.

He never needed as much sleep humans did, a few hours and he was fine. He used to wake up and lay there bored but now he spent his time much more better.

Newt sighed, shifting on the bed but his heart stayed slow and even so Percival didn’t worry. He pulled his lips off his mum’s nipple and examined the puffy pink tip. It was wet with his spit and Percival blew on it softly just to feel Newt’s body shiver. Taking the tip between his fingers he pulled carefully, stretching the skin a bit before letting it go. He licked over it to ease the small hurt and settled on suckling again. He always made sure to give both nipples attention and not to go too far that Newt was sore when he woke.

Percival was careful with his delicate mum.

He was just so wild sometimes, jumping into danger and rushing to help others. Percival had to keep a close eye on him, making sure Newt didn’t get himself seriously hurt. His rambunctious mum whose eyes lit up when he met a new creature and who would do almost anything to help them.

Such a kind soul.

Percival would have to be the tough-hearted one, the one looking out for them.

Making sure Newt was safe.

He nuzzled his mum’s warm chest and lazed in the feel of comfort and safety he always felt when he was touching Newt.

 

Newt was on edge, waiting for something to happen in the weeks after he touched Percival finally. Percival noticed it right away and spent a few days trying to understand what it was his mum was expecting. Sometimes his gaze would fall down to Percival’s pants and the incubus eventually realized Newt was looking at his cock. He was expecting something sexual from Percival.

He was nervous but not negatively so, not dreading whatever he thought was coming.

It became clear when Percival woke curled up with his mum one lazy morning.

They’d both been up most of the night dealing with a very sick hippogriff and Percival hadn’t had time to play with Newt’s perfect body while he slept. So he woke up feeling needy, body wanting to press in close. Half asleep, Percival nudged in close to Newt’s warm form, pressing his front to his mum’s back. He lazily humped at Newt’s pert rear, it was so nice, all round and soft and warm.

Percival didn’t get hard most nights, not unless Newt did and then the empathy power in Percival would make him react. He learned a little more each day, about himself. Sometimes it was unexpected things that neither of them had expected. But Percival seemed to be able to rely on his instincts, he could trust them. They’d led him this far without much trouble. Newt said it seemed they were much stronger than a human. That they pulled Percival in one direction while human instinct was much more base and faint.  

How odd to think of not having direction, to not have that rope to follow when all else failed. A silent but undeniable pull towards a reaction. 

One the nights when Percival did get Newt sexually excited, he liked to rut against his mum’s thigh, wondered what it would feel like inside him. Within his very body, the most intimate physical act possible between them.  

One day.

Percival huffed out tiredly for now, hips pumping. Newt must be having a wet dream, must have woke the lust in Percival up.

“Easy,” Newt breathed softly and Percival came fully awake in an instant, jerking back as Newt turned in his arms, awake.

The lust was heavy in the air, his mum’s pupils were all dilated and his lip was swollen from being nibbled on.

“Here, just let me help,” Newt said, his gaze ducked down shyly as he reached out and slid his hand into Percival’s sleeping pants. He whined out at the contact, his mum’s hand feeling so good. Percival curled back in close, pressing his face to his mum’s delicate neck.

The first time had been too overwhelming, going so fast and Percival’s brain not able to focus beyond the pleasure.

Now he was a bit more used to his own lust. He could hear the way his mum’s breath went quick and smell his own pleasure. Percival rumbled in delight, that Newt enjoyed this so much too. The feel of his long elegant fingers curling around Percival’s cock. The hands that had cradled him and wiped his tears as a boy, the hands that held him close still.

“Mum,” Percival breathed, pressing their chest together, wanting to be closer until they were one, until everything of Percival was his mum as well. Percival wanted to consume him, to gobble him up and keep him safe inside him.

He meant to lightly nudge but desire made him clumsy and Newt fell onto his back with a thud.

“M’sorry,” Percival apologized as he crawled over him, pressing down so his erection rubbed against his mum’s through his sleeping shirt. Sexual contact still lights up something inside Percival, all too new for him to do anything beyond gasp out.  

“It’s alright,” Newt reassured him, reaching up to cup Percival’s face and impress love and acceptance that made Percival shiver in satisfaction.

“Touch me again, mum, please,” Percival asked, pleading as his mum chuckled but took his cock in his warm hand again.

Sighing out, Percival thrust into his mum’s hand now, rocking his hips. His thighs were between his Newt’s skinny thighs and as he hoped, his Newt spread them wide.

Percival shoved against him, mimicking the sex position, as if he was inside Newt rather than just his hand.

Leaning down he licked his mum’s neck, rubbing his smell there obsessively, Newt had to smell of him. Percival just felt uneasy if his mum didn’t reek of him, if everyone didn’t know who his mum belonged too.

“That’s it,” Newt whispered and Percival trembled a bit, that his mum was awake and letting him do this, letting him scent mark and rut against him.

His mum’s lust was strong too, Percival pushing his hips down so their cock’s rubbed together. His mum’s sleeping shirt had ridden up and Percival’s pants were down. So he reached between them, to press their erections together as his mum gasped out.

“Don’t,” he protested weakly, his fingers moving away though, letting Percival take both of their cocks in his hand and thrust against his mum’s.

The lust was rising between them, the sensation of shoving and the feeling of being shoved against circling through Percival’s head, all the skin contact making it hard to know who was who as the pleasure took over his ability to focus.

“Mummy,” Percival called out, feeling himself jolt as he started to come. Mum was gasping out, making such pretty sounds as he came too, long white lines of semen splattering between them as Percival kept moving, shoving against his mother. He yanked up his sleeping shirt so Percival’s come would hit his skin, would sink in and stink for weeks even after his mum washed it.

Both of them were trying to catch their breath. Percival took care not to squish his mum into the bed, carefully laying out on his side beside him instead, his whole body humming with pleasure.

“I love you,” Percival said, knowing love was important to Newt. He moved a bit closer and nudged his mum’s shoulder affectionately.

“I love you too,” Newt replied, his emotions twisting now though, guilt seeping into him.

“No one else could help me like this, only you,” Percival added to try and sooth that guilt.

“You’ll find someone one day,” Newt assured him and Percival frowned.

“I’d never trust them like I trust you, never love them as much, never be as happy. You’re the best,” Percival explained and he could feel adoration filling Newt, easing the guilt back.

Pleased, he settled in close and snuggled in, wanting to distract him for as long as he could so the seed on his belly could dry and scent mark him more prominently.

 

Once given something, Percival would cling to it tightly and refuse to give it up. Some territorial thing in him always growling away. So the moment Newt touched him like that again, the moment he gave an inch, Percival demanded it the next morning again. Stubborn and persistent as he begged and Newt never was good at resisting when Percival made it seem as if it was a need and not a mere want. So now he was given a handjob each morning when he woke. His hands all over his mum’s wonderful body, groping him as he growled and rutted into that callous and warm hand. Newt got all stirred up too, both of them panting and pressing close, right on the cusp of falling.

His mum was primed and almost ready to be his mate.  

So very close to that breaking point.

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

 

There were back in England, Percival wearing his human disguise so he could walk down the streets with his mother. Their shoulders brushed constantly and they traded secretive smiles affectionately. Going out wasn't something Percival’s mother enjoyed often but in the right mood and setting, he could have fun with it. They had just finished dinner in a small family-owned restaurant and now they were looking for a place to have a drink.

“Really, we shouldn’t be giving you such things,” mum mused and Percival just smiled.

“We won’t know if we don’t explore,” he reasoned, hand reaching to run down the small of his mum’s back. A warm flush lit high on his pretty cheeks but he didn’t deny the words, making Percival more certain tonight was the night.

Finally, they would be united as close as possible.

“Well, well,” a smooth voice chuckled, a masculine tone that put Percival at unease immediately and tore the calm mood about him away immediately. There was a little non-magic bar with people standing outside and chatting, enjoying the mild weather. There was a man on his own, watching them both with a relaxed air of amusement.

He looked and felt utterly human but the hair on Percival's neck stood on end, a snarl trying to escape his throat. His disguise wavered and his mum grabbed Percival’s arm, reminding him they were in public. His mum’s magic pouring over him to ensure his disguise stayed in place. 

“Well...I never thought…” His mum was hesitant, anxious as he glanced between the stranger and Percival with an odd worry. Percival stepped closer to his mother, pushing in front of him to guard.

The stranger laughed at them and his tone stirred a anger in Percival’s gut. Something about this man was making him want to fight, want to bare his teeth and snap.

“I’m not here to steal your child,” he explained to Newt and his shoulders dropped a bit in clear relief.

“I’d die before I went anywhere with you,” Percival announced calmly and his mum made a worried sound, reaching out an hand to touch Percival’s arm. He felt his worry and fear, but mostly his concern for Percival. He tried to press back his own emotions, his sudden unexplained anger and deep possessive feelings for his mother.

The stranger watched them seeming to know what they were doing merely by touching, sharing emotions. No one ever had before and Percival’s agitation jumped higher.

“You can add this to your books,” he said to Newt, but his gaze remained pinned on Percival. “We don’t get along well with our own kind, even our own kin.”

Percival narrowed his eyes, realizing that a incubus stood before him. His own sire. His teeth flashed in a snarl of a smile and he growled at him. This one who had touched his mum, had rutted into Newt and bred his body. How dare he.

The male smirked at Percival, so openly entertained with his rage.

“Stop,” Newt told Percival, a restraining hand on his arm.

“Shall we get a drink?” The incubus offered, inclining to the bar. Percival wanted to spit in his face but mum nodded. He was curious now, interested to speak with the creature now that he knew he had no intentions of stealing Percival away. He was still cautious, wary and defensive of his son however. That possession in Newt was what made Percival go along with it, liking that feeling in his mum.  

“We have to check in, make sure everything is ok,” the incubus explained once they were seated in a cut off corner. Mum had carefully cast a spell so the noise of the bar didn’t reach them and their voices didn’t reach others. Newt and Percival sat on one side, hip and thigh touching snuggly as Percival glared at the interloper. The fact that this incubus had touched Newt was driving Percival half mad, territorial anger rising steadily. Only his mum’s hand touching his arm every now and then calmed him. Newt reassuring himself Percival was there and safe at his side still.

“Who makes you?” Newt asked, ever the magizoologist.

“Instinct, honour, not sure really. But eventually we feel a call to look in. To see if the babe made it or not.”

“Not a very caring relationship,” Newt mused, not judging though.

“We’re not meant for such. Our kind draw emotion in and through that we give it. We can’t give first, so we can’t care when both are trying to draw out affection. Incubi and succubi repulse one another.”

“It is affection? Isn't it? Not sex that you crave?”

The incubus smirked at Newt, eyes so keen on him and Percival’s lip curled in a silent snarl.

“You are a curious thing. I hadn’t been sure what would happen. But, it didn’t hurt to see. And now look what we have,” his gaze cut to Percival. His eyes going sharp and Percival glared back darkly.

“You bonded.”

“Bonded?” Mum inquired, his fingers itching for a notebook to write everything down in.

“Succubi only have daughters and they leave them with humans desperate for children. Incubi only sire sons, we leave them with mothers who will either reject or accept them. Depending on their reaction it shapes the son. Rejected males learn to take what they need through sex usually, while adored ones usually bond to their mothers and never leave their side. Has he tried to fuck you yet?”

Newt’s face flushed and Percival slammed a fist down on the table, the drinks jerked with the force.

“None of your business,” he snapped.

Newt turned and watched Percival, seeming to read all the tension and anger in him. He pat his thigh gently and Percival made effort to pull himself back under control. He was acting like a child and not his mother’s equal. This would only set him back in trying to prove himself. 

“It’s nothing to worry on, most do. You won’t be able to breed though, the blood linked as it is.”

“And Succubi are completely different? Are they more common because there is less of a chance of the human family rejecting them since the mother picks them? Or is it mere myth? The lore does favor succubi over incubi it seems.” They fell into conversation like that, Newt asking all sorts of things and the incubus humouring him. It was clear he was only lingering because it was upsetting Percival and he found it funny.

Percival felt nothing but distaste for the incubus, no parental bond or urge to have one. He just wanted the creature away from his mum and out of their lives. The only reason he hadn’t bodily picked Newt up and left was because mum was so pleased. His inquisitive nature lit up within him. He was delighted to be learning and had eventually broke down and got out a notepad to write things down. Percival knew how much his work meant to his mum and that was why they were still there, sitting across from something utterly repulsive to Percival.

 

The hours wore on the bar grew quiet as people left. Finally, it was time to close. Percival kept a hold on his mother’s wrist as they got up to leave the incubus at last. 

“I’ve got the drinks,” the incubus smiled, putting down some money to pay for the drinks throughout the night. It annoyed Percival, the male showing off like that. They left the bar and stood on the walkway, the city quiet in the late hour.

“We should go,” he told Newt and his mum smiled and nodded. But his gaze was drawn back to the incubus and Percival utterly hated that.

“Too bad, we could have some more fun,” the incubus teased, winking at Newt who turned red. Percival snarled then, pulling his mother away and leading him down the street. The incubus laughed out loud and turned and started off in the opposite direction finally. 

“That’s enough,” Newt yanked his arm free and stopped Percival. Rubbing his wrist as if it hurt and shame filled Percival at once. He turned and carefully looked at his mother’s wrist, seeing the bruise already forming and feeling the ache in Newt for it.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and meant it truly. “I...he made me so mad, I can’t explain it, how angry I was without him even trying.” he fumbled to say and Newt nodded, looking at Percival a moment. With a sigh, he smiled softly and reached out to cup Percival’s face, he leaned into the warm loving touch.

“It was very clear you disliked him immensely. He hid it much better, but he didn’t like being around you either. How strange that you’d be repelled by your own kind.”

“I don’t need them, just you,” Percival assured his mother and Newt huffed and smiled. But that old shadow of doubt was back. He wasn’t sure about Percival again, his defences rising up once more.

“But it’s also clear your kind form bonds with people, that a mother’s link might not be the same as a lover. He did say you would stay with me, but not as...well as a lover might. Perhaps we should think to seek you someone?”

Percival wanted to sigh out and deflate. All his work undone with a few hours of talk.

“Did… Do you prefer him to me?” He asked quietly, wondering if that was the heart of it. If Newt was holding back because Percival wasn’t enough.

“Don’t be silly. He was charming but very arrogant. Still, it was worth the conversation. We’ve learned a great deal tonight.”

“He also said that mothers and sons do become lovers, that it was normal even. I don’t want anyone else, just you. I’ve only ever wanted you.” 

Newt sighed out, looking at Percival, seeking something in his gaze. 

“Well, we have time to figure it all out. I was worried you might need having amorous affection by a certain age or such. Thankfully your father said that wouldn’t be so. We can learn this as we go along.”

“Together?”

“Together,” Newt reassured him with a warm smile.  

Percival nodded, taking his mother’s hand carefully and walking down the empty streets to where they were staying. Newt chatted about incubi and succubi and Percival listened, wondering how he was going to win his mum over.

 

When they stay in a wizarding hotel they don’t sleep in the suitcase. It would be dangerous to do so with so many people able to slip past the magical wards on the door and get into the room and trap them or the like. So they were in a room with two beds and the suitcase between them. honestly it was almost safer to stay in muggle places. But dark wizards could appear almost anywhere as well. It could be daunting to think on it too much, the dangers of the world.  

Percival ignored the second bed in the room and tried to get in with his mother when they settled in for the night. Newt shifted and reached out to stop him. Percival immediately shrinking back in rejected hurt. 

“I’m sorry Percival, but I’m...I feel a bit off right now. Perhaps we could sleep in different beds tonight?”

Off.

Percival studied his mother, the flush to his face and sweat on his brow. His pupils dilated ever so slightly. He was excited, sexually hungry.

Was it for the other incubus? Was Percival right and Newt wanted him and not Percival himself?

“I’m sorry, I’m just needing a bit of space right now, everything is so...confusing.” Newt tried to explain, sensing Percival’s reaction. Percival pulled away when his mother reached to pat his hand. A sudden deep and cutting sensation of unease and hurt running through him.

Rejected. 

“I’m… going for a walk.”

“Percival, wait.” Newt scrambled to get up out of the bed but Percival was faster, out the hotel door and down out the main door before his mother reached the doorway.

 

Sullen and rejected, Percival glared at the streetways and got a block before circling back. He couldn’t go far with that other bastard nearby, instinct calling him back to his mother. He rarely went anywhere without his mum to begin with, preferring to keep close.  

Percival was glad for it when he returned, seeing the incubus up the street peering at the hotel curiously. He had followed them then.

Percival snarled silently, feeling his hurt turn to rage in a blink. It was the deep dark hours of the night, when everyone was sleeping and the light was low. It took nothing to snuff them out, for the street side to go completely dark.

There was no hesitation in him, Percival attacked the incubus with every intention to kill him.

Jealousy and possessive rage rushing through him. 

He didn’t expect to be tossed back so easily. Like he was a mere human. Percival had never fought with a human looking creature before he realized. The incubus smirked at him and Percival hated him even more, charging at him again. He tried to punch his sire but his blows never landed. The incubus’ human form gave way and his horns were long and gleaming, the skin around his hands black blue and dark grey with long claws and glowing red eyes, he reeked of power. He wore such an infuriating look, eyes mocking at Percival jumped at him and kept missing, unable to even catch him. They moved across the empty street, Percival’s anger making him sloppy. He ended up crushing cars and breaking brick walls but was unable to get who he wanted to harm the most.

When the sire took off, Percival followed, chasing him through the city, smoke shifting around them, magic making them faster than any mortal could be. Percival found himself falling back on abilities he didn't know he even had. His tail serving to balance him as he clawed his way up the side of buildings and called magic to make him move faster by some instinctual call. 

His sire laughed at him, seeming to be amused and pleased.

“You’re very strong for your age,” he complimented and Percival snarled at him in reply. His tail lashed in his frustration as he stopped finally. The incubus ten yards away from him, watching him as Percival sat back and calmed his anger. He needed to focus. This was like chasing the niffler, giving into his emotions made him sloppy.

“I had him all ready for you even, he was trying to ignore it, but he felt it. Felt the lust in him rising up. You could have had him, held him down and took him, and you ended up running away like a child.”

The words were meant to upset him and they did, but Percival pushed it away. Finding a centre within himself. His mother loved him. Even if Newt lusted this incubus, he loved Percival and he placed love about lust, above all things. Newt was Percival’s in the way that truly mattered. The rest would come with time.

Percival shifted forward, eyes intent on the incubus. They shot forward again but this time Percival fainted going left or right more, making his motions less obvious. He used the environment around them, tossing bits of brick he grabbed and then trying to get at the incubus when he blocked that.

It took time but eventually he got a hit in. Finally managed to grab the other creature. Percival growled in success and they toppled down, hitting a rooftop and rolling down the slanted top and falling to the earth with a hard thud. Percival was on top and he lifted a fist to bash his sire’s face in, to make him hurt and bleed. Touching him was repugnant, a void where emotions should be. There was nothing to him. Even the coldest of people felt something, animals and creatures, all things gave off something. The incubus was empty.

He caught Percival’s fist in one hand, stopping it easily and before he could react, the incubus hit Percival. He hadn’t tried before, merely avoiding. Not he landed a blow to Percival's side and the power of it threw him off to the side. His body crashed into someone’s fence, snapping wood and Percival landed in the dirt and gasped for air. His hand went to his side and he could feel the break of his ribs. He couldn’t breathe right but as the incubus got up and came towards him, Percival still did his best to try and get up, rolling in the dirt and wheezing for air.

He couldn’t get up.

“Like I said, you’re impressive, you've got a great deal of power for someone so young. It’s admirable. And so possessive.” His sire looked down at him, no longer wearing that faint amused air. He was cold now, eyes empty at he watched Percival attempt to get up and fall over and over.

“Determined and stubborn. I chose well, that little wizard birthed and raised a strong child.”

Percival glared his hate and the incubus shook his head at him.

“You do need more control on that. If you want him, take him. You’ve tied him to you with an emotional bond so finish it. Seed him and he’ll crave it, need it. Never be able to give it up. He’s already like that with his love for you, so deepen it.”

The incubus crouched down so he was level with Percival.

“I only came around because you haven’t. You need a bond if you don’t want to fuck just anyone. You’re right on the cusp of coming into your own. So make the bond or find bedmates. One or the other, or you’ll begin to deteriorate, we feed on their emotions, you’ll starve if you don’t feed. It won’t hurt him, we don’t take enough to harm, that part is just a myth. Consider this a gift, from a father to a son.”

Percival felt the magic crawl over him. He tried to shield himself but it was like his magic was a open web with great gaps for it to sink through. Lust and hunger washing over him, waking every inch of his body with desire.

“If you don’t mate by sunrise it’ll turn painful and by the end of the day, it’ll kill you. Weakness won’t be tolerated among our kind. You take what you want or you’ll perish.”

He stood up once more, stepping away from Percival and adjusting his coat, brushing the dirt away.

“I’ll check on you in a few hundred years, see what becomes of you, Percival, son of Graves.”

Percival spat at Graves and the incubus laughed, looking amused again as he waved and walked off, leaving him there.  

 

Once he got his breath back, Percival managed to drag himself to a dark alleyway where he could slump to the ground and look like a drunk sleeping it off more than a victim. His side burned horribly with each inhale but it was steadily healing. The lust was the real issue sweeping through him steadily. It was like a tide coming in, rising a tiny bit each time it lapped at the shore. Percival didn’t doubt it would turn painful and kill him with enough time.

He snapped his teeth in resentment, this was not how he wanted it, not how his first perfect time with his mother was supposed to be. A rushed fumbling thing. Necessary rather than desired. Forced rather than picked.    

Damn that incubus.

 

Percival slinked back to the hotel, well beaten and knowing it well enough. Still, his mother was safe and that was what truly mattered. By the time he got back, the worst of his injuries had healed. He could hear Newt awake still, a light under the door as well. Waiting up for his wayward son no doubt.

It would be easy, to tell the truth, to let his mother know he was bested and cursed to need to mate. His cock was hard and aching, the need growing more and more. There was no doubt in him that his mother would freely lay with him to help. But that's what the incubus wanted, what he intended and for that, Percival despised the idea of it.

He could use somebody else but Percival would never want them. He was for Newt and Newt alone, no others pulled Percival’s lust the same way. A bond Graves had said. It seemed right. Bound together. 

His choices were slim but Percival decided to try what he could, in order to turn this back to his favour.

Newt’s face fell when Percival entered, clearly he had been hoping for someone else. It made Percival pleased, a smirk pulling at his lips. He carefully made sure not to slip up. He had practiced on others before and successfully imitated their loved ones but Percival’s mother was not just anyone. He had never done it for more than a few moments as well, he needed to keep the ruse up through sex this time. If anyone would see Percival under the glamour, it would be Newt as well. Always so sharp. 

“He’s not far, sulking unhappily.” He explained lightly and Newt nodded, looking to the window.

“He’s gentle is all, sensitive to perceived hurts.” His mother defended.

“Territorial and possessive,” Percival purred back and Newt smiled fondly, nodding his head in agreement.

“Very much so.”

Confidence was key and so Percival closed the hotel door and bolted it casually, as if it was his right. He pulled at his shirt as he began to cross the room. His mother watched him, keen eyes taking him in with a sweeping looking.

The form was perfect of course, Percival looking exactly like his sire had.

“Let the boy sulk, I’m sure we can find something to fill the time,” Percival leered and pressed his lust magic out. Not aggressively, more slow and enticing, an offer more than a demand. He knew his mother enough to know how a demand would go over. Percival was new to this however, not used to trying to make someone crave him via magic. He had played light games with people but never something this in depth. But his sire had mentioned he had brought Newt’s lust to the forefront and he still looked a bit bothered, eyes dilated in hunger.   

“You’ll know then, won’t you?” Percival added when Newt hesitated. “If it’s just mere lust pulling you to that forbidden desire, that troublesome boy of ours.”

Newt’s eyes flicked up at him, searching. Percival knew his mother’s indecision, his worry about why he desired Percival, his own child. A fear it was only a base lust that any warm body could ease. That he just needed to sleep with someone.  

Percival reached his side, Newt sitting on the bed, and he smirked down, putting more grace and care in every movement as he tipped Newt’s chin up and leaned down to kiss him. He struggled not to bleed too much affection, to push his lust forward, to make Newt feel how badly he wanted to be inside him.

After a moment held stiff, Newt melted, giving in. Percival deepened the kiss, eager to have him, to finally be inside his mother. The lust curse was biting at his heels but Percival could ignore it in favour of savouring the taste of his mother's lush mouth properly.  

“How long has it been?” He asked lowly, knowing full well Newt hadn’t had sex since the incubus.

“Does it matter?”

Percival hummed in agreement, trailing his mouth down Newt’s pretty neck. He undid his shirt, trying to move at a casual pace and not rush himself. He was playing at being an older Incubus, a more experienced one that had already fucked Newt silly once before. He knew the body under his hands as well, had spent plenty of nights exploring it while his mum slept. Still, Newt had already had sex with this incubus and might have expectations. 

The reminder made his teeth sink a bit, Newt gasping out as Percival gently bit at his shoulder. Carefully making sure not to hurt him as he pressed a kiss of apology. He pushed them both onto the bed, Newt on his back and Percival looming over him.

Newt felt so good against him, the hunger for him and the idea he was finally going to have him making Percival so eager. He did his best to hide it away, trying to push calmer emotions as his hands ran along his mother's body, squeezing and touching as he had many times over already. Although this time his mother was awake, Newt gasping out as Percival undid his pants and tried to pace himself as he undressed them both.

Breathless, in a way that was so deliciously tempting, Newt muttered a spell against Percival’s neck. It was something for sex, something for cleaning, Percival knew that much. He had heard others mutter it before sex before. He busied himself with cupping his mother’s bare cock for the first time, taking hold. Reminding himself to play is smooth, he tried not to linger too long, wanting to memorize the feel and weight of it. The smooth hard skin that somehow also felt fragile in his palm.

Newt was taking in sharp breathes with Percival's exploring and he tried to use that to touch his mother, to make him feel good. When Newt spread his thighs Percival noticed and took the subtle hint to move lower, finding his mother’s hole slicked already. That must have been what the spell did then, preparing him to be taken.   

The idea of it made Percival’s own cock twitch and Newt reached out as if he sensed it, his own cwork rough hand curling around Percival boldly. He stroked him from the base to the tip in one smooth motion. His hands so good at it, making Percival shudder as he felt the lust rushing through both of them. The lust curse pressing as well, bleeding into both of them a bit as Percival hissed out and rocked into his mother’s hand.

“I want to be in you,” Percival confessed and Newt nodded his head eagerly, both of them shifting around on the bed to get into position. Newt laid on his back with his head on a pillow and Percival kneeling before him, between his spread thighs.

He pressed the head of his cock to Newt’s slicked hole, rubbing at the wet sensation. It felt so good already and Percival wasn’t even inside him.

“That’s it,” his mum coaxed and Percival shuddered, pushing the tip with more insistence. It finally gave, sinking in and they both took a sudden breath in reaction. Percival could feel the pleasure shared between them, the tight heat and the slick penetration. He pushed in deeper without thinking. Stopping when his mother hissed out in pain. Percival stopped dead and waited a moment, petting his Newt’s thighs until he relaxed into the bed once more. He gently tugged on Percival's wrist and so he sank in more, going more slowly now. It felt too soon and too long before Percival was fully buried inside. The feeling was amazing, better than what he had expected.

He leaned down and kissed Newt lovingly, taking his time to lick into his mouth and mark him in every way he could. They broke the kiss and he nuzzled Newt's neck, pressing worshipful kisses and licking at his skin. He latched on at the base and sucked until Newt whimpered, a red mark left when he let go.

Percival liked that, liked the idea of the claim. 

“You can move now,” Newt told him and he nodded quickly. Percival pulled back slowly and then rocked back in, shallow motions to get them both used to it. He tried to be more mindful and play the role but the new sensations and the mere fact it was his mum undid Percival’s focus. His hips snapping more quickly. It didn’t help to hear Newt’s moans and feel his pleasure, to know he was giving that to him.

Percival panted for air, his body working to make sure Newt enjoyed every thrust. He pushed lust on them both, mind twisted and lost in the pleasure. Something animalistic about the base desire building in him, pushing him to claim. To dominate and take.

His.

Percival kissed his mother harder, claimed him and nipped at his lip hungrily.

“You’re not being fair,” Newt muttered and Percival was confused a moment before he realized he had lost his illusion. He no longer looked like his sire. He wore his own body once more. Newt didn’t push him off however, he clutched Percival closer and he didn’t question it, pounding into his mother eagerly.

It was easy to lift him up off the bed, Newt’s arms going around Percival as they kissed more sloppily now, his mother minding his horns as Percival fucked into him still. 

The wet slap of skin and Newt’s muffled moans sounding so perfect ot Percival, finally taking what was his. He fucked into his mother with a rough edge, sensing that Newt was enjoying it the more forceful he got. 

He sat back on the bed so Newt was astride him, riding Percival now. He looked so fine like that, skin gleaming with sweat as he whimpered out, lifting and dropping himself onto Percival’s cock so readily. After so long waiting, it felt glorious to see his mother undone like this. The feeling of him on Percival’s cock mingling with his adoration of Newt finally giving in. The animalistic lust and divine love feeling perfect together. 

He wanted Newt to look down at him, to see Percival as they untied.

Lovers now. 

“You shouldn’t look like him,” Newt chided without heat and Percival felt his excitement pulse. His mother still thought he was the sire, that he had taken Percival’s form.

“You want him, want him the most,” he replied, his tone more confident then he felt. His mind muddled with his mother lifting and dropping back onto his cock steadily. The feeling of him swallowing Percival up was amazing and his mind struggled to stay on point.

Newt didn’t deny him however, just whimpered at a hard thrust and gasped out as Percival slammed up into him.

“Dirty thing, wanting to fuck your own child,” Percival teased and Newt flushed even redder than he was. His arms wrapped around Percival as he rolled them so Newt was under him again. He needed Newt under him, taken and owned. Percival wanted his mother in every possible way he could. He was able to thrust with a more smoother motion this way, able to fuck into his mother with fast deep strokes.

“Shameful thing, so hungry, needing it like this. Wanting him to take you like this,” he babbled almost lust making him messy. Percival barely remembered he was pretending to be someone else. The desire between them building up and taking over everything else. The wet slap each time he lunged in and the way Newt gasped out every time so delicious to hear. They were being too loud, the headboard banging and both of them moaning out and panting. But Percival was far beyond caring right then. 

The sensations were too much for Percival to deny and he hissed out when he came, body pushing as deeply as it could into Newt. His release pushed Newt over as well, both of them breaking apart. The high of release much more stronger inside his mother. The knowledge he was spilling inside him finally making it that much better. Percival groaned out helplessly as he came apart in his mother and knew they would be together forever now. 

Percival slumped, careful not to squish his mum as he tried to catch his breath He could feel beads of sweat running down his back and Newt looked lovely with them on his skin as well, his hair damp with sweat. He looked thoroughly used and very happy about it. They spooned close, Newt’s back to Percival’s chest as he pressed kisses to his mum’s shoulder worshipfully. 

Percival just had to kiss him again, more sweet now as he craned his neck and slanted their mouth’s together. Newt cupped his cheek gently and returned it, nuzzling Percival in close like he always did.

Percival had taken him finally, had made Newt his mate.

His.

Trading soft kisses, Percival’s cock pulsed, still hard and inside his mum. He began to rock back and forth once more. Working them up and fucking his precious mum once again. A good hard fuck, feral and claiming. Percival followed Newt’s lust and they ended up so savage, both loving every second of it as the poor bed was put through the paces. 

Once they finished that they managed a third time as well. 

By the fourth Newt was exhausted and overstimulated, thighs quivering and semen clinging to his belly and body. His pink hole red and puffy now, dripping a white smear that made Percival's mouth water.

He just had to taste him. To taste them combined.

“I can’t,” his mum protested, Newt whimpering even as his hips jerked and pushed at Percival’s mouth. The taste of his body as good as the reactions, Newt shivering and loving Percival’s mouth on him as he lapped over the sensitive rim. He could feel the desire twisting inside and Percival’s own pressed back in answer, loving to taste of his own seed on his mum’s skin. A perfect match.

The lust spell had faded at some point, perhaps the first round even. Percival was too focused on his mum to really notice or care. 

He managed one last time, Newt whimpering and half awake as Percival gently fucked into him. He shivered as he came inside again, marking his mother up from the inside out now.  

They fall asleep curled up like proper lovers, the bedding cleaned with a muttered spell.

 

But Percival didn’t sleep and spent most of the morning just watching his mum rest. Taking in every little breathy sigh and cute near snore. His heart was overfilled with adoration and Percival was so excited to spend his life with his most precious person.

While he wanted to stay put, hunger eventually demanded he leave the bed. Newt still sleeping as Percival got up and prepared for the day. He dressed and washed up before heading downstairs to find breakfast for them both. The worked lifted a knowing brow at Percival and he just grinned unrepentantly. He wanted them to know, everyone to know that Newt was his now. When he returned with a tray filled with breakfast food Newt was showering in the small bathroom.

“Good morning,” he greeted softly when he emerged, smiling at Percival.

“Morning,” Percival replied, tail twitching with how much he wanted to get up and snuggle his mother close.

“How was your night?”

Percival blinked and then recalled the lie, feeling something sour in his stomach at the idea of Newt thinking he’d laid with another.

“I was thinking,” Percival replied, mind turning over thoughts rapidly.

Newt looked at him curiously and Percival left the little table in the room to stand before his mother, taking Newt's hands in his own.  

“I want… I wanted to ask if you trust me.”

“Of course,” Newt’s hand squeezed Percival’s own, transferring love and comfort, a bottomless love.

“Then...let me show you my potential.”

“You’ll do amazing at anything you want to,” Newt reassured him warmly.

“I want to be your mate. I want to be your partner in all things,” Percival rushed out, feeling his face heat. He wished it was easier, to make what he felt into words that properly conveyed all he felt. He wanted their night before every night now, he would never be happy unless Newt was his in all ways. 

“I love you, in a way I’ve never loved anyone else. I don’t think I ever will. My sire said most attach to their mothers, that they love them as mates. I’ve never been attracted to anyone else and I don’t believe it’ll happen.”

Percival looked down at their joined hands, trying to gather his thoughts.

“I want us to be together always. If you wish it to be platonic that’s fine. I can adjust. But if you feel… If you feel desire for me then please give me a chance, please let me prove myself,” Percival’s voice fumbled at the end, trying to put his emotions into his tone, just how badly he wanted this chance. To show his mother how good they could be together. Percival would never give up his mother, never. But it would be so much easier if Newt would accept him right away. If not, Percival would wait and work more to coax him, but in the end, the only real end was them together as mates.

He’d accept no less.

“Please mum,” he added when Newt seemed at a loss, looking at him with wide eyes. Percival wasn’t above begging when it came to Newt.

He squeezed their joined hands and after a moment Newt nodded in positive.

It surprised Percival, how much it mattered. He had told himself it wouldn't matter at all, the outcome would be the same in the end. But when his mother accepted his offer, a shy nod and smile, a sudden joy and elation flooded his chest. Touching as they were, Newt felt it, the pure happiness shared between them as he smiled at Percival. such a warm open thing, so accepting and loving, it was all Percival would ever need.

He stepped in to close the distance between them, their brows bumping gently as Percival grinned at Newt and he returned it.

“I love you,” Percival swore, knowing his love and fixation with Newt would never fade. His adoration set in stone that would never wear away.

“I love you too,” mum replied and Percival just had to kiss him.

They had sex again, slow and loving, much more drawn out. Getting caught up in kisses rather than anything primal like the night before. Newt might not know it had been Percival but he had already shown him two very different ways to have sex. To sate lust and make love, Percival was certain he’d learn everything from his mother in time. There was no rush, Newt was his now.

That was all that truly mattered.

A white lie about who he was last night hardly mattered in the big picture of their lives together.

 

Newt knew of course.

That his son thought himself rather sneaky and clever when he came to him looking like his father that night. But his shaking hands gave him away so quickly, the way he looked at Newt with such clear love rather than simple lust.

Newt knew they shouldn’t for many reasons but Percival’s father had done away with Newt main fears. That Percival would outgrow him and take another mate one day. The sire had made it clear that most sons bonded deeply with their mothers and never left their side. That many of them also developed sexual relationships. The incubi either took many lovers or only one. It was selfish in many ways, but Newt just knew his heart would shatter and never recover if he took that final step and eventually lost Percival. Not only as a parent letting their child go but as a lover being replaced. Now it all felt different, with the incubus reassuring Newt and Percival so worked up he never noticed his father trying to help him win Newt. There was a worry about Percival’s very nature, if he was truly feeling love or mirroring Newt’s own. But to doubt his ability to feel felt callous and cold. Percival was too sweet and ernest to be faking such things Newt had convinced himself. 

Percival roamed the suitcase, feeding creatures with the ease of familiarity as Newt watched him fondly. It had been a few weeks since they met his father and they had both settled as lovers. Percival very needy and insatiable but also very skilled from the get go and only growing the more he learned. Newt was often left breathless and very well fucked. 

Flushing a touch, he looked on as the niffler bothered Percival over some silly thing, stolen coins no doubt, and Dougal clinging to Percival’s shoulders as he dumped food from buckets into feeding troughs. He never minded the creatures and seemed at home with them all around him, haressing him for time and affection. They seemed drawn to him and Newt had made notes on it already, on how there seemed to be such a pull towards Percival that all things felt. He’d grown so handsome as well Newt thought, Percival having that effortless charm like his father but also so much more with his warm smiles and loving gaze. 

How could Newt ever resist? 

He was lost the moment the child was born to him and claimed the moment Percival thought to want him. Newt would have never been able to resist him. 

His darling child.

His charming husband.

Newt wore a plain gold ring of course, Percival would have no less, utterly delighted with the marker to show Newt was taken. He had even insisted on a little ceremony between them to prove it was a proper marriage. The incubus were very possessive creatures Newt had learned, Percival often jealous and territorial. He should have taught Percival better but some part of Newt always liked it, the way Percival claimed him. It made him feel loved.

Newt smiled softly as Percival bickered with the niffler, his heart so full it might burst.

His precious boy. 

His. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuteeeeee. 
> 
> Finally finished this! Working on Waheela follow up, maybe a halloween fic tooooooo.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah mummy Newt, always so perfect. 
> 
> Feel free to come talk to me on my [Tumblr!](https://the-miss-lv.tumblr.com/)


End file.
